A Time to Reconcile
by Caravelight
Summary: Based on OotP. Percy Weasley is seeking pardon from his friends and family, while dilemmas are haunting him.


**A Time to Reconcile**

By Luna Project

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**DISCLAIMER: Percy Weasley and the rest of the Weasleys, and the staffs at Hogwarts (including Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid) belong to JK Rowling. Well, _anything here _that related to the wizarding world belongs to her. ^_^**

I only own the plot, and I'm making no money from this.

**WARNING:The story took place in early summer after Harry & co's fifth year. This means that the story is post-The Order of the Phoenix (post OotP) and contains possible spoilers.**

**Note: The ~words~s indicate Percy's thoughts. ****He (in bold) refers to Voldemort.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**A Time to Reconcile**

By Luna Project

~What have you done, Perce?~

He'd been asking the same question over and over again since he started walking down the front lane of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He should've known, should've realized, that the people inside the house—his family,mainly—wouldn't welcome him. There would be no nice greetings or warm embraces. There would be no smiles spread on their faces; the smiles that used to greet him in full rejoices every time he came home at Christmas holidays or at the end of terms. All because of those ludicrous mistakes he did for months and months before that.

Percy Ignatius Weasley had already guessed what kind of words he would receive. He'd already known that today, the day when he met his family, would be his doomsday. Today would be the day for the time bomb to blast; the time bomb that had so long been waiting for him, ever since he left his family and move to London. 

Percy could recall, crystal clearly, the last rows he had against his father. He spoke uncivil words he never thought he would say. How much disgrace the Weasleys had cost the wizarding world, how embarrassing it was to endure living with low-class persons like the Weasleys. How much suffering his father had caused them all, due to his consistence in defending Muggles' rights. He dared calling his father a Muggle-loving fool. Something only a foul wizard like Lucius Malfoy would say. 

Percy bit his lower lip and thought bitterly, 

~And now I know who the biggest fool of all is~

Ever since Cornelius Fudge made his press release admitting the return of He Who Must Not is Named, Percy had spent many times on long and deep reflections. He re-considered his point of view. He re-thought of his preferences in life. He spent so many times alone in his apartment, trying to remember all the blunders he had made during the previous months. He even handed in his resignation letter to the Minister for Magic. He did not believe any more that the Ministry was the place where he belonged. Cornelius Fudge seemed speechlesss on that day. But the next day, he said some wise words and finally was able to persuade Percy to stay. Percy suspected that the Minister had, once again, asked for Dumbledore's advices. Thus, dispirited though Percy was, he still came to the office regularly and work in silence.

While at work, Percy's thoughts flew to his family. He knew perfectly well that somehow his father's wrath awaited him. Because he had sent Hermes more than five times to The Burrow unanswered. He assumed that his father was still angry, and therefore forbid the rest of them to reply the letters. The second possibility was that the family was away. Perhaps they spent the summer in Egypt again, or in Romania, or at a beach somewhere, sunbathing. 

Percy decided to apologize in person. Hoping against hope that his family was at the Burrow, he went there. And found the beloved house empty. He immediately thought that his second assumption was right.  

Strangely, there was a strong feeling of a derelict building on the house. The chickens were dead, the surface was all dusty, and the peeling walls looked worse than the last time. It did not seem right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He called his mother, but nobody was at home. He purely thought, at first, that she might be gone shopping down the village nearby. She didn't usually go without leaving any messages, thus Percy tried fruitlessly to find any small piece of parchments his mother might had left. Some simple memos to indicate that she would be back before long. Percy found nothing. No messages whatsoever. 

Percy tried to peer into the house from one of the windows . He was astounded when he found that even Errol wasn't on his usual perch. 

~Even if we go to the Diagon Alley, the poor owl is normally left home alone! Yet they couldn't be on vacation at times like these! Where's everybody?~

The hours went by and Percy was still alone. He started pacing up and down in what was steadily becoming a pool of dread. Scared of imagining what might have happened to his family, Percy went panicky. He stood there in stunned shock, while tears started streaming down his eyes. He tried to block his darkest imagination that his family might had been captured by He Who Must Not Be Named, or worse, had been murdered mercilessly. 

 ~Perhaps **he** had eventually discovered that Mother and Father helped Dumbledore so much. And then **he**…~

Percy couldn't bring himself to say the words "murdered them". He shook his head vigorously. Perhaps his family wasn't dead. After all, there was no Dark Mark floating above The Burrow. They must be on vacation, yes!

~But my family isn't that type of people who stay ignorant! Not when the darkness is rushing ahead faster than we ever expected…They won't spend their time relaxing…~

Where's the family, if they're not on the vacation, then? Where were they? Percy ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

~Think, Perce, think. Who would be able to give you information on your family's whereabouts?~

 And he set off on his broomstick to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to meet Albus Dumbledore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                                     

The journey to the Hogwarts castle itself was unproblematic. Having experienced in becoming a jury ad interim for the Triwizard Tournament, Percy had known the route to Hogwarts well enough, even without tailing the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Getting there was trouble-free, but what about entering the castle and encountering the staffs? It was another question.

He had come to the Hogwarts grounds being suspected by the gamekeeper-and-Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Rubeus Hagrid.

  "What got yeh here? Say yer business, I'm armed!" Hagrid shouted, pulling the sharp string of his bow, straight at Percy's heart. 

Percy answered cautiously that he was Percy Weasley, son of Arthur Weasley, and one of Ron's elder brother. And he was there to see Dumbledore.

  "Oh, I remember yeh. Yer the **turncoat** who works fer Fudge. That son of Arthur's," Hagrid nodded, and without lowering his bow, asked Percy on what affair he came to the school's grounds on a summer evening when school hadn't even started yet.

With a pang in the heart, Percy swallowed hard the _turncoat word directed at him, and, after several more arguments, he was led in into the castle._

~ A filthy turncoat. Yes. That would be me~

Argus Filch the caretaker swung the front door open. He tried to do what in his opinion was a courteous smile—being a huge supporter of Dolores Umbridge once—at Percy.

    "Mr. Weasley. It is an honor to meet you again. How is Professor Umbridge? Is she fine?" he still put on the bizarre smile on his face.

    "I don't know," Percy answered curtly. Standing behind the dim-witted woman during the last months was shameful, and yet Filch brought the woman's name up again. "She had quitted her job. Gone away somewhere."

    "Oh." Filch stared at Percy in disappointment. He didn't accompany Percy further. Percy thought Filch had found him disagreeable, but he didn't care. He knew the castle well without the caretaker's company. All he needed right now was for someone to assure him that his family was safe and sound. Even if Hagrid

Some of the staffs—their wands out—were in the Entrance Hall. Some others were at the Great Hall, staring at him when he entered the castle. They stopped talking abruptly when Percy came into the Great hall with the gamekeeper at his heels. They smiled vaguely—in Minerva McGonagall and Professor Sprout's case—or sneered—in Snape's case, at him. He didn't know how exactly he must respond to this. He was Head Boy of the school once, and was an admirer of Dumbledore's brave deeds, and months ago he was Fudge's spokesperson; saying whatever necessary, no matter how inexcusable they were, to destabilize the Headmaster. In other words, Percy had done two very contradictory things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~If Dumbledore simply ignores me, that will be precisely what I deserve.~

Percy muttered those words under his breath. 

~Of course…~

He was this ungrateful student who learned wisdom and lessons and moral values from this very school. Yet, he chose to bow to someone whose ignorance could fill in encyclopedias—Cornelius Fudge. The worst of all was that he, Percy, was involved in a small coup d'etat against Dumbledore. Only to discover that a brainless, witless witch from the Ministry, named Dolores Jane Umbridge, supplanted the old man.

Nobody would criticize Dumbledore if Percy went home with unanswered questions about his family, after all those horrible deeds.

~It's entirely my fault~

Percy nodded slowly. Yes, it was his fault. How could he be so blind? So senseless, so imprudent was he, to think that He Who Must Not be Named could never return.

Yet Dumbledore talked to him cordially; in almost the same way as he did when Percy was Head Boy, or when Percy was a first year who did not know where the Hogwarts Library was.

  "Good afternoon, Percy," Dumbledore smiled. He was reading a book when Percy came into the Headmaster's office. He beckoned Percy to sit down in one of the chairs.

Percy sat down awkwardly. He couldn't find any words to make him feel less guilty, so he plunged on with the question in his head. 

  "Do you…do you happen to… know where…where my family is, Professor?"

He had gone straight back to addressing Dumbledore with "professor". He did not care if Dumbledore noticed this and perhaps laugh silently at his foolhardy behaviors in the last months. A couple of months ago he called Dumbledore "Dumbledore" and he had even said, in his letter to Ron, that Dumbledore's time as Headmaster was up. 

    "Why are you asking that, Percy?" Dumbledore gazed at him from the top of his half-moon lenses.

    "Because I-I went to… to The Burrow and…" Percy's words were trailed off. He was so scared that Dumbledore would indeed say that the Weasleys had been murdered. If Dumbledore said so, Percy would forever be condemned to bring the rift of his family unhealed within his steps.

    "…Found that the house was all empty?" Dumbledore inquired in a knowing tone.

   "Yes." Percy said quickly, hands in his Muggle trousers' pockets, shivering  despite the warmth of the summer.

~Please don't let them be dead. Please don't say that they're dead. Please…~

     " They're fine, as far as I'm concerned."

  The words punctured one of the balloons of misery in Percy's lungs. He gaped incredulously at the Headmaster.

    "There were… signs that they left the house hastily," Percy continued slowly. He took a deep breath and then continued, "Why?"

The next thing Percy knew was that he was briefed on the Order of the Phoenix. What was it, who was the members, the main goal of the Order, and, last but not least, the Headquarters.

   "Why are you telling me this, Professor?" Percy looked up, feeling guiltier than he was when he had just approached the grounds outside. 

 Dumbledore smiled. "Because I know you can be trusted."

Percy had always known that Dumbledore's mind was very complicated, and has acknowledged that the mind never was easy to guess, but he never expected such a straightforward answer. He stammered, trying to remind the Headmaster that he was also with Fudge when the coup d'etat occurred, and that the words he said as a spokesperson of the Ministry were atrocious, but the Headmaster shook his head and said that he knew better to trust Percy.

  "I know you almost resign from your job at the Ministry, Percy," the Headmaster said, putting the book he read back to the shelve behind his desk.

Dumbledore said that it was enough to prove that Percy knew better now what to choose when he was pressed tight in severe conditions. And it was him who told Fudge how to say the words to keep him in the Ministry. Certainly the Ministry needed more forces to defend the wizarding world if Voldemort—Percy flinched—was to attack again. Young, wise, and brave wizards were certainly needed to bring the Ministry into a better perspective in making judgments.

Percy had suspected that someone had briefed Fudge on how to restrain him, Percy, from leaving. Fudge was not known to say such wise words. Percy had thought indistinctly that the person behind Fudge was Dumbledore—now that the discord between the Ministry and Dumbledore was over—but he couldn't bring himself to think of Dumbledore without feeling angry with himself. Dumbledore's words confirmed his suspicion true.

~But I'm neither wise nor brave, Professor~

Percy thought miserably. How could someone with so many blunders be addressed as wise and brave? Reckless and obtuse were the more exact words. He knew better not to argue with Dumbledore about him being a wise and brave wizard, so he pleaded Dumbledore to permit him to come to the Headquarters of the Order instead. 

~I want to be there to receive a deathblow from my family~

It was distressing, to think that he had hurt his family so deeply, and now was craving for pardon. What if they never wanted to hear from him anymore?

Dumbledore gave him the address of the Headquarters in a small parchment which, he said, would be ablaze seconds after Percy reached the address. Before Percy rose from his chair, he tried to voice his apology, and failed. For Dumbledore had patted his shoulders and said, "Don't blame yourself, Percy. You have been to recognize darkness, and from now on you will be more prudent not to wave the light away." 

Percy couldn't express his apology to the old wizard; words seemed to have failed him. When he got out from the offfice, he could only stutter "thanks" but his voice was full of guilt, and was unlike its ususal self.

When Percy appeared in the Great Hall some moments later, still  with the shame and guilt in his heart and mind, McGonagall saw the parchment. She austerely warned Percy not to read the parchment out loud but kept the content in his mind instead. 

From the corner of his eyes, Percy saw the Vice Headmistress and the other staffs eyeing him. They smiled in the parting, but not before McGonagall whispered, "I do hope your family would welcome you, Weasley. You're a good young man and your family is good persons."

Percy tried to smile. He knew it was a weak smile, but he hadn't smiled for weeks, or perhaps beyond that. But he was thankful for both Dumbledore and McGonagall.

   "Thank you very much, Professor."

He turned his back from the Vice Headmistress and was heading for the front door of the castle, but then he stopped abruptly.

Looking back at Professor McGonagall and the other staffs, he managed to say, "And please forgive me. Please tell…Professor Dumbledore."

McGonagall sighed. And she nodded. Some of the staffs did the same. The others merely stared at him in uncertain expressions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

McGonagall and Dumbledore's words were supportive, but not enough to wipe off the clouds in Percy's heart when he was approaching Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. So Dumbledore had given him the address. The place where he could meet his family and, hopefully, be able to patch the wounds up. The past months had been tense and stressful, thanks to him, and he wondered why on earth he hadn't understood this before.

The gloomy Grimmauld Place looked very contrary to the bright afternoon surrounding it, when Percy consulted the parchment Dumbledore gave him. 

  "The Headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number twelve, Grimmauld Place." 

And suddenly from out of nowhere a large grim old house , with the number twelve on its cavernous front door, materialized. It was looming like an spine-chilling old graveyard in the midst of a sunny public place.

Percy walked slowly towards its large front garden, wondering who on earth owned this place before the Order used it. Dumbledore only told Percy that the house was generously provided by its last owner, in order to ease the secret society in running its affairs. It was clear to perceive that Dumbledore was a Secret-Keeper of the Order; because only he was allowed to tell where precisely the Headquarters was located. It was obvious that the Headmaster himself thought that this house was safe, despite the Muggle houses around it. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was invisible for those poor Muggles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~What have you done, Perce?~

He repeated the words in growing despair. He would be slapped in the face. He would be shouted at. Perhaps he would be cursed into pieces. He deserved that.

     Fred and George would swear at him. It was to be expected that Fred would beat him. A thousand jabs would never be enough. Still, Percy wondered whether the twins were doing fine. How was the joke shop going? The fake wands—were the twins still producing them? Or were they developing other products as well?

    Ginny would be very likely to scream in anger and perhaps throw things at his face. How was she, the dear sister? Percy overheard his father once at the office, talking to old Perkins —though he had been pretending he did not hear the conversation—that she was Seeker for the Quidditch team. Percy would tell her that he was very proud of her. He would tell her that it took no Prefect badges to become good persons. 

     Bill and Charlie would probably take a leaf out of the twins' book. Bill was calmer, perhaps he would simply turn his back and disown Percy for the rest of his life. He always looked up to them, always, especially to Bill, who was a Head Boy once. 

~But Bill would never do such pathetic things I did.~

Ron would be the angriest. He was Harry's best friend, his sidekick, and Percy had once boorishly told Ron in a letter that Harry was mentally unstable. He advised Ron to befriend the right persons. How could he preach that way, when he himself did not know whom to follow? Percy wished that he could tell Ron that it wasn't the Prefect badges, the medals or the OWLS scores that made us wiser. He would apologize to Ron and to Harry.

His mother would cry with all her might. Percy cursed himself for being very rude to her when she came to London. Molly Weasley was the woman who gave birth to him. She was the woman who raised him, the woman who tried her best to pay his school tuitions, the woman who supported him in many occasions.  How could he simply slam the door on her face? Who was he to do such thoughtless thing to the best mother in the world there was?

His father was very unlikely to forgive him. Percy had been a prodigal son who thought he could conquer the world by being appointed Head Boy. He thought he could but everything by gaining top NEWTs and OWLs. He thought everyone would bow to him if he became a personal assistant of a disgraced head of department. He perceived that he would be worshipped if he was a Junior Assistant for the Minister for magic himself. He even thought of becoming a Minister then. Now he was very certain that it wasn't the job he wanted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Power tends to corrupt us. You're such a fool, Perce, not to realize that before.~

A small voice in his heart said those words. Percy acknowledged that the words were right.

Percy started to clang the doorbell. Whoever was to answer the door, the person would be the first to strike the deathblow at him. But there was no way looking back now, there was no escape from time.

And still, the same throbbing query echoed in his ears:

~What have you done, Perce? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~********~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**THE END**

**Author's Note: Percy didn't know about the Order because he hadn't communicated with his family for months. So, imho, he only guessed that his family was on Dumbledore's side, without knowing their activities. He chose broomstick instead of Floo Powder to get to The Burrow, because his apartment in London was Muggle apartment, so the Floo Panel was not allowed to connect it to the Weasleys' fireplace (Percy's connections were not as many as his dad's yet—after all, he was a newbie). To go to Hogwarts, he dashed on the broomstick.**

The chickens were dead because the Weasleys left them unfed. I know it sounds cruel, ;_; but I always imagine that the family never returned to The Burrow but lived in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place instead. I mean, The Burrow would be too risky for them to live in times like these. Now that Lord Voldything is back, the years in the wizarding world had somehow become the years of living dangerously ( It's a novel's title, mind you). So Ron and the others went to Grimmauld Place  rather than to The Burrow. 

This fanfic is written for my friend **Weasleylover 1** who really likes Percy. I hope it won't disappoint her. 

And I hope this isn't OOC, but if it is, please forgive me but the idea for this fanfic had been haunting my sleeps for weeks, so I got to write it. ^ ^;;

Anyway, **please Review**!! I really want to know what people think of this.

**Tons of thanks to anyone who reviewed "Icy" and "Nothing but a Mirror." You've made me want to write better poems.**


End file.
